You'll Never Walk Alone
by Lena Polaris
Summary: Romance fic involving Merlin and an Original Character. Will stray from plot line of the show. Merlin brings Arthur a new warrior, one that he never thought he would have feelings for. Guinevere and Arthur try to hide their feelings.
1. Chapter 1

It was early dawn; gold rays of light were spilling over hills of emerald green. The mist rose from the cerulean sea below and enfolded the previous ruins that had been Camelot. Though she looked worn, and beaten the city was slowly rising to power. Within the fortress' walls a flutter of activity was taking place with carts rolling in, horses whinnying. Goats, chickens, pig all running loose. Among the chaos two brothers walked, quietly content with it all. "Have you seen the girls around here?" Arthur muttered to Kay as they walked through the crowd, his eyes were following Guinevere through the crowd that had been procuring over the last few weeks.

"Have you seen the girls around here?" Arthur muttered to Kay as they walked through Camelot. They had procured many people in the last few weeks, now the ruins looked alive.

"Aye, and they all follow you. They all have hope." Kay replied. His eyes roved over the crowd and landed on Merlin and the woman beside him. "Looks like Merlin has himself a woman."

Arthur glanced over, his brows winged up. "She's not bad, not great...Is Merlin interested in women?"

Kay snickered. "They're coming this way."

The man stopped in front of them, tugging the woman forward, he spoke, rather proudly. "Arthur, Kay—this is Moira McKellan, one of your warriors."

"What?" The two brothers stared opened mouth.

"Like I've never heard that one before." Moira rolled her grey colored eyes, she glanced at them. "Test me then."

"Kay, go ahead," Arthur stood back.

Merlin muttered a curse beneath his breath. "Don't you trust me yet?" He asked the boy-king. Moira smirked and drew her sword eying the man in front of her.

"Kay is it?"She asked. He nodded. "Beat me and Arthur will have my allegiance," Moira twirled her blade through the air enjoying the whistling sound. "Lose and I'll side with Morgan."

"The Irish are easily swayed," Merlin said dryly. Moira swore at him. He grinned in response. Under his breath he spoke to Arthur even as swords clashed. "Moira is a warlords daughter, she is the product of rape—she killed the man who raped her mother…she was fifteen when she did so. Her father trained her, her brothers honed her skills." He slid a sidewise glance at the king. "Her brothers will also fight for you."

"But you heard her, if she loses…" Arthur began.

Merlin interrupted him. "She will." Arthur glanced up at the brooding sorcerer. A small crowd began to gather around the fight, space was given as the two fighters spread out in the tiny space. Kay was surprised to say the least. Moira was holding her own and Kay was wearing her down. She had to admit Arthur had himself a damn good brother to fight for him, and she knew—quite disappointingly that she was losing. "Shit!" Her curse echoed in the air as Kay's sword slid past her defense and nicked her arm. The two stood panting, sweat dripping from their brows. With a scowl she turned to Arthur and knelt. "You have my allegiance."

"And ours." A man stepped forward with three men behind him all knelt.

"My brothers, Malcolm, Calder, Balin and Larkin." Moira stepped back amongst the men. The family resemble was easily spotted when the five were close to each other. She locked eyes with Arthur, Kay, Leontes and then Merlin. "We will fight beneath the Pendragon flag."

"I am thankful." Arthur replied with a nod of his head.

Night fell over the ruins and with it uneasiness. Or maybe that was just her. She stood on the wall of the castle; nothing but the moon and the owls to keep her company. Below the future king slept peacefully, his companions and allies did the same. She would make sure that they stayed safe. Moira's eyes roved over the landscape, taking in the grounds. Battles would be fought there, blood spilt and lives taken—"Lady Moira," Kay moved from the shadows interrupting her thoughts. "It's late, you should be bedded down."

"As should you." She replied bitterly.

"If you're still sore about losing—"

"I did it on purpose." Moira snapped. "Don't get too hung up on it."

"Moira," Merlin's voice came from their side, below the turret. "Time for bed."

She rolled her eyes. "You'd think he was my bloody father." She nodded to Kay and departed. Merlin met her at the bottom of the stairs, holding out his hand to assist her. She took it with a scowl. He linked her arm with his and patted her hand. "Merlin this isn't necessary." She murmured.

"There are a number of men here discussing you Moira; it is my wish that they not come into contact with you unless I am sure they will not harm you." Merlin stopped outside of her chamber doors, and brushed a strand of brown hair away from her face. "I promised your father I would watch over you and so I shall."

Moira gazed at him for a long moment, trying to read him. Merlin's eyes narrowed, and he opened the door for her. "Spoil sport." She muttered. They went their separate way, and like the rest of Camelot slept soundly with the hope of the future in their thoughts.

* * *

><p>The next day dawned in pools of red, purple and yellow, rather than savor the new day Merlin sat in his room, pondering about the woman he had brought over to Great Britain long before he had brought Arthur to Camelot. Moira was a particular kind of woman; he knew that, he wasn't blind or stupid. He had heard the mummers among the men. Some said she was cursed, some that she would get them all killed if she fought beside them. Even Arthur had been unsure. He knew that Moira would speak her piece as she had when he had found her in Ireland. Hell, he still had the scar. His hazel eyes flickered to the sunrise drawn to the colors, and felt a stirring in the back of his mind. She was up. His long legs strode to his window and watched the figure mount her horse and ride out. He followed.<p>

The trio of candles sat in a triangle with Moira in the middle, her brown hair hung down her bareback, her legs were nestled on top of her fur lined cloak. Merlin slowed his horse and leaned forward on his saddle, shifting to see her from the side. She had a row of sewing needles in front of her and softly her voice ran out in the meadow. "Spirit of light, by my will I summon you to this place. Cast your favor upon these needles and each needle, grant your power that no evil intrusion may pass, lest it suffer upon it your unyielding retribution. By my will I call your will, let this be done." Merlin stiffened suddenly, as did Moira.

A wicked laugh spread over the field. "Do you think that can help your boy king?" Morgan sky clad as well approached. Merlin was quick to dismount as Moira rose exiting her circle of protection. "How adorable."

"Leave this place Morgan; you do not belong here, just like you do not belong on the throne." Moira's voice was hard and cold. Merlin stood beside her now.

"Don't let her in." He whispered.

"I don't plan to," Moira closed her eyes, lips moving in a silent spell.

Morgan stopped, brows furrowed. "What is she doing?" The half-sister of Arthur stepped back. "Merlin!" But the sorcerer had backed away as well. His eyes went to the river behind Morgan. It was flooding. He heard it before it happened. Moira's eyes flew open, sterling gray as the final bit of her spell left her mouth in Gaelic words. A wall of water horses swept over Morgan engulfing her.

The meadow was once more empty and in Uther's castle Morgan gasped for breath. "Bloody witch!" She curled into a ball coughing and gasping for air. When the panic of drowning had passed Morgan took a moment to compose herself and wipe away the tears.

* * *

><p>Moira turned away from the river took a step and then swayed, Merlin caught her as she collapsed. He folded the naked woman into his arms, drawing her cloak over her. "Foolish stupid self conceded witch." He growled even as he tried to warm her cold skin. "Stupid."<p>

"Aye, but it taught her a lesson." Moira smiled weakly at the sorcerer.

"You meddled with the ancient powers of the Druids—" Merlin broke off as Moira began to shake. He shook his head, and closed his eyes, seeking into her body. It took only a few minutes before he extracted. "Get dressed." He let her go and backed up, turning away. "What were you doing?"

"The needles are blessed with protection, the seamstresses will be making clothes soon, might as well have some protection in them."

"Clever girl." Merlin turned around as Moira slipped on the last of her dress. "You really should be careful when you come out here."

"Why?" Moira mounted her mare Garnet. Merlin shook his head mounting his steed. "Concerned for my well being?" She teased arching a brow.

"You push your luck Moira," he replied as they rode toward Camelot. "Someday it will get you killed." She scowled over at him. "Don't give me that look. Your father asked me to watch out for you, I intend to do so."

"My brothers are here." She pouted as they began to trot. He remained silent. She rolled her eyes. "Are they not strong enough to protect me?"

"I'm ignoring you Moira." Merlin began to canter. She growled and caught up to him, blocking his path. The black steed he was on reared up slightly.

"What have you seen? Tell me." She demanded. He slid the reins to one side moving his mount, she gripped the bridal. "Merlin…"

Hazel eyes met gray in a battle of wills. The man sighed heavily. "I have seen many things Moira—all I will tell you is that you are in danger."

"We're _all_ in danger Merlin!" She cried out in irritation. "Not just me."

"Exactly," Merlin grinned smugly. "The world does not revolve around you." They rode back to the city in silence. It amused him to irritate her so much. He dismounted and helped her off of her mare. "Will you be taking the needles to the women?" He asked.

"Yes."

"You'll stay out of trouble?"

"Merlin," Moira turned. "Ye can stop actin' like my father." She patted him on the cheek and walked away. He watched her leave with a scowl. She was a pain in the ass alright. Merlin walked away content to lock himself away for the rest of the day. And she was perfectly find with that!


	2. Chapter 2

The day was beautiful, blue skies with not a cloud in sight, a light wind to cool the brow whenever work got too hard, the sun sharing her warmth over Camelot and drying the clothes that had been laundered and were drying in the air. The castle was alive once more. Outside the safety of the walls Kay and Arthur walked the grounds together, side by side as they had over their family's farm land. Merlin trailed after them lost in his own thoughts as the two brothers observed any faults the land around Camelot had. They were sidetracked by the sounds of swords clashing. "Kay!" Arthur broke into a run his brother and Merlin not far behind. They reached the top of a hill and looked down below them. "Oh for the love of the Gods." Merlin rolled his eyes taking a seat on the grass. The Irish brothers and their sister were in an all out brawl below them.

"I can't believe you slept with her!" The woman's voice reached them at the top of the hill mixed with the sound of swords clashing and scraping through the air. "How could you?"

"Well, Moira when a man loves a woman—" He broke off jumping back with a laugh as she charged him. "No, but in all honesty…she was young, she was ripe, she had great —Whoa!" Larkin leapt back as Moira's blade made it past his guard.

"Tis her best friend you're talking about it," Balin laughed boisterously. He, Malcolm and Calder were observers and peace-keepers when and if the time called for it.

"Oh I know!" Larkin told his younger brother. "She had a nice, tight—" Moira tackled him before the sentence could leave his mouth. They lay in a heap laughing and panting, swords laying beside them.

"Good show," Merlin clapped sarcastically. Moira glared up at him, a long scratch graced her cheek, her brown hair in disarray.

"Do ye think ye can do better?" Larkin shouted up, wiping blood from his mouth. "Come on then. Any of ye wish to challenge the clan?"

Arthur and Kay shared a look before grinning. "We're in." The brothers said in unison.

"My lord is that wise—" Moira began, but subsided when Arthur merely drew his sword. Up on the hill Merlin let out a lengthy sigh and sat back, pulling a blade of grass up to twirl between his fingers. If any of them got hurt it was their own damn fault, he wouldn't be to blame. Nope, he wouldn't be the one to blame. He plucked another blade of grass twirling it around the other. Though he pretended not to care his eyes found Moira in the mix and watched her as she wiped her forearm across her brow. She caught his eyes and grinned impishly. He shook his head in exasperation.

"Shall we do teams, or is it just a brawl?" Larkin asked. There was a chorus of brawl votes. "Right then, begin!" Merlin straightened up some as Kay began to fight Moira. It was still beyond him as to why he was so concerned about her. She was fogging up his brain and doing a damn good job at distracting him from his job.

"Oh ho ho, Balin's out." Calder hooted as his brother walked away cursing and shaking his hand. Arthur paired off with Calder. It was fun to see how these men would do as his warriors; already Moira and her brothers were proving to be good assets thanks to Merlin. The king slowly began to quit in order to watch the group, to learn what they could do. "Arthur's out!"

Arthur stood aside with Balin, then Calder, then Malcolm. Larkin, Moira and Kay were the last ones in. Merlin, his attention piqued frowned as Kay tripped Moira and pounced, sword poised to kill .The sorcerer rose, stepped forward then stopped as Moira swung her long leg up and knocked him to the side. The men had quieted and were intent to watch, intervene if necessary. Merlin joined them after a few moments. "Should someone stop this?" He asked softly.

"Let her hold her own," Malcolm replied wincing as Moira fell to the ground from a blow. He shifted uneasily as he saw the tall tale signs that his sister was growing tired; growing sick of watching her grow weaker. Kay was pushing her, more so then her brothers ever had. "Just give up." Kay said darkly. "You're making a fool of yourself. You don't belong on the battlefield." Moira clenched her jaw and drew her sword back, ducking and weaving. He nicked her side, drawing blood. She cursed, Larkin's shout to stop drowning it out. "He drew blood, he's won, why is he still going?" Malcolm asked Arthur.

"Kay, Moira enough!" Arthur ordered stepping forward. Kay and the woman ignored it. Moira rolled; Kay stomped on the blade of her sword. Crying out she feigned hurt as she crawled back. Kay lunged and as the blade met the dirt by her neck the blade of a dagger met his chest.

Moira lay beneath him, chest heaving with exertion, her brow wet with sweat. Merlin hadn't realized that he had been reaching out to grab Kay. Larkin grinned at his brothers. "I taught her that one."

Arthur laughed. "Well done you two, very well done. Moira you've proved us wrong. We'll no longer doubt you my lady." He helped her up; Merlin purposefully stepped in front of Kay. "Merlin you've got her?"

"Yes, I'll take her to the healer, get those scratches checked on." Merlin and Moira departed. The McKellan brothers gave it a few moments before turning on Kay. "What d'ya think ye were doin'?" Larkin approached him. "If you have a problem with Moira then bloody well say so!"

"See will confuse the men—" Kay began. Balin reached for him only to be blocked by Malcolm.

"Knock it off." He ordered as the eldest brother. "Moira has proven her worth. Arthur has said so."

"Kay," Arthur nodded. "He's right. Whatever business you have to settle with Moira is yours to settle, however do so off the battlefield. We will need everyone's strength should Morgan attack."

Moira hissed as Merlin dabbed at her wound. He glowered at her and pressed harder. "Ouch!" She smacked him hard on the shoulder, tears welling in her eyes. "That hurt!"

"Oh stop being a baby." Merlin pulled the rag away rinsing it off and then poured some pure alcohol on it. This time her enraged scream came with a sharp hit to the jaw. His head jerked back. "Moira…" He pinned her down, pressing it hard to her side, blocking her shouts with his other hand. She squirmed beneath him, infuriated. "Really now, act like a lad—" He groaned rolling on his side, hands on his inner thigh.

"Be glad I missed." Moira snarled sitting up, arms braced behind her. She had been aiming for his manhood, in her mind he deserved whatever pain she gave him. She squeaked in surprise as Merlin growled and launched himself at her, pinning her down again.

"We're going to sit like this for a moment so you can think about what you did wrong." He stated gruffly.

"From where I'm sitting nothing a'tall." Moira grinned wickedly at him. Merlin cleared his throat and stood. She laughed, as she sat up, completely at ease. "Merlin why do you do that?"

"What?"

"Run." One long fingered hand stroked the fur on his bed, he watched the hand adorned with a Claddagh ring and bracelet made of emerald. "Every time we get close you back up…" She rose and moved closer to him. "Is it because I'm not desirable?"

Merlin arched a black brow. "Actually Moira, quite the opposite," Her mouth twisted into a wry smile. "Do you doubt it?"

"I'm five and twenty years and unwed, what should I think?" She walked away from him the playfulness gone from her voice. Merlin watched her, his frown deepening. "Do _you_ think me desirable?" She pinpointed him with a dark gray stare, ignoring the pang of tears at the backs of her eyes.

Merlin furrowed his brows, wondering what made a beautiful young woman doubt herself so much. "I do."

"Then why not other men?" She turned away and leaned against the outstretched rock of the window, gazing at the sunset. "Why not the men who came and courted and left…each and everyone since the day I became a woman." She hated the fact that her throat tightened with tears or that her gut clenched when he came up behind her. "What is so undesirable about me?" She tucked a stand of hair behind her ear and let out a soft sigh, and turned. Her eyes stared at the black cloth of his shirt, his index finger gently lifted her chin.

"May I try something?" He asked softly.

"Like?" She asked breathlessly. He held up a finger, thought about it for a moment before laying his hands on the side of her face. "Merlin, no-" But it was too late.

_ He watched the little girl as she raced around the yard with a pack of dogs. Behind her a man laughed, and swung a girl toddler into the air. "Moira, come now, your mother says supper is ready."_

_ "Coming Da!" The young girl giggled and sprinted over, jumping up into his waiting arms. He swung both girls around. "Oh my girls, you'll be grown one day and far from Tipperary."_

_ "Why?" Moira asked darkly. "Tis home Da."_

_ "Aye, but home isn't where suitors are."_

_ "I'll never have a suitor," Moira lifted her head indignantly. "I don't need one."_

_ "Yes you do my girl," a woman came into sight now, wiping her hands on her apron. "That's how I met your father…" _

_Time flew by like a river running its course over rapids. He fell as if from a waterfall and then once more was able to watch._

_ She was older now, yes he could see that. She must have been a young adult. And he saw, oh yes he saw the line of suitors coming for her. One after another, after another. But none took her. He watched both puzzled and disgusted by the men. "Moira, Ian is here to see you." Her mother had called her. Moira entered the scene in an emerald green dress, a tiara of silver and sapphire around her head. "Lord Ian is outside." Her mother brushed at the dress. "Now do not frighten him, no fighting, no racing, no—magic." _

_ "I never showed the other ones magic," Moira muttered darkly. "They preferred Shannon."_

_ "Momma," Shannon entered the scene. Merlin scowled. A beautiful blonde stood beside the brunette. "When do my suitors come?"_

_ "When your sister is betrothed." _

_ "That'll never happen." Shannon muttered as she gazed out the window. "Oh, Lord Ian is it." _

_ "Yes," Moira snapped. "Excuse me Mother." She stepped outside greeting the man with a curtsey. "Lord Ian."_

_ "Lady Moira," he kissed her hand, glancing at the window. "Who is that beauty in the window? Your mother?"_

_ "My sister," Moira frowned. Ian grunted and took her arm. "Are we walking in the forest?" _

_ "No, no, the forest is no place for a woman; we'll stroll through the gardens." Ian patted her hand. Merlin saw the anger in her eyes, and the longing look she gave the forest. Scenes went by, he saw them make love, he saw Ian make love with Shannon and then he saw black—_

Moira was glaring at him, her eyes filled with tears. "Ye went too far with that Merlin." She brushed past him, slamming the door shut on the way. So, she had given her heart to a man who had gone after her sister. He shook his head, there had to be more. More that she had cut off. Puzzled he sat down ignoring the welts forming on his arm. It was all part of the business. He had let her leave without a fight in order to understand the pain that they were now both feeling. There was a dull throb of sharp, aching, longing in the pit of his stomach.


	3. Chapter 3

The forested path was quiet and empty, the last rays of golden light filtered through the branches of the oaks as old as time. Deer moved across the path and squirrels chattered above, arguing or raving about stolen acorns. Below the peacefulness was disturbed by a crashing of underbrush. Moira and her mare emerged with a crack of a branch. How dare that infuriating man—he wasn't even a man! Bloody fool sorcerer! Moira stormed through the forest, cursing and grousing. Her mare Garnet was trotting behind her, completely at ease to just follow her mistress. "How could he do this Garnet?" She walked beside the horse, scowling. "He has the nerve to probe into my mind, and view my private thoughts, _my_ memories!" She let out a breath, letting the new darkness of the forest envelope her. She threw a hand out in front of her, and a line of twinkling lights lit the path for her. The river was at the end of the path, she knew she would find peace there; some serenity.

He sat alone in his room. His hazel eyes went to the window, the stars were shining brightly. He judged the time and frowned. She had been gone for three hours, alone at night. With a sigh he closed his eyes searching out, almost immediately he cursed and held his cheek. Only that woman could be able to smack him from at least a mile away. "You want to be difficult, fine." He rolled over on his bed and tried to sleep. It wasn't long before he was wide awake and itching to get up. Irritated he left his room, pulling on a pair of pants as he went. He turned down a new hall and opened the door at the end. "Moira," he spoke softly. The figure on the bed rolled over. "Moira?"

"Merlin?" A voice asked as the body sat up.

The sorcerer's eyes widened. "Kay?"

"You've got the wrong room." Kay replied with a laugh.

"Oh…apologies." Merlin backed out of the room. Thought about it for a moment, then turned toward the hall. He counted the doors and growled. She was toying with him. He opened the door again to find Moira giggling. "Was that really necessary?"

"It was only a little pay back." Moira flicked a hand lighting the torches and the hearth. His mouth watered as he gazed at the naked woman. It shouldn't have affected him. He should have been able to gaze at her as if she weren't there. "Did you get what you wanted earlier?" She asked toying with a strand of hair. She had found a place that she could sit and relax, she was more serene now, much more peaceful. Merlin couldn't break that.

Merlin smirked. "I was curious, you were weak."

"Weak?" Her hand dropped. "Weak."Her tone had hardened.

"That's what I said." Merlin walked over to her and sat on the edge of her bed. "Why must you taunt?" He asked. She furrowed her brows then looked down at herself. With a blush staining her cheeks tugging up the fur blanket. "Shy all of a sudden?" He pulled the blanket down despite her protest. Her breath hitched as the back of his hand brushed her breast. "See Moira, it is not wise to tease a man on the edge…" He drew back at the knock on her door. Moira pulled on a shirt that was beside her bed. "Come in." Merlin answered for her, despite the scowl she gave him when he head came through the half pulled on shirt.

Arthur poked his head in; on impulse both rose and bowed. "None of that, it's too late for it," the young man winced. "It's getting old."

"What brings you here?" Moira leaned forward intrigued.

"I had an idea."

"A good start when becoming king," She teased. He smiled at her. "What kind of idea?"

"A ball."

"No." Merlin stated as Moira said "Not happening." Arthur stared at both of them for a moment before laughing. "Alright, never mind."

"Well, think of it this way, we'll be vulnerable if we do that," Moira began.

"And we have nowhere to do it; our main concern should be rebuilding Camelot."

"And it is, but we need to boost moral after the last fight with Lot."

"A feast." Moira said. "We will save the ball for next month, Solstice to be exact." She pondered it for a moment. "We should be done with the castle by then, wouldn't you say Merlin?" She flicked her grey eyes to his brown, with an arched brow.

"Around there, yes." He nodded in agreement. "So all in all a good idea just not yet." He smiled reassuringly at Arthur. "We'll be by you."

"Are you two—" Arthur glanced between them.

"No, no God no." Moira and Merlin denied it disgust written on their faces. Merlin rose and with Arthur beside him bid goodnight to Moira. Once she was alone she flicked her hand dousing the torches. Snuggling down in her furs she wished for a man to curl up against as she had in the meadow in Ireland, when she had been sure Ian had loved her. She closed her eyes and dreamed.

_The magpies were flying above them as they lay in the green meadow, purple heather hiding the lovers. Moira sighed happily as Ian turned his head toward her, his fingers idly stroking her shoulder. "One magpie means sorrow," she said softly as the magpie landed. Ian shifted uncomfortably. Two more joined the magpie. "Three for a wedding." She let her gaze wander back to the sky. Ian rolled on his side, stroking a hand down her face before kissing her. She lost herself in the kiss, so warm, so tender. She felt her heart melt. They made love, as they had never before, and she felt there was bitter sweetness to it, even as she rose above him, riding him. She collapsed on him as he released. She rolled off of him, curling back up in the warm sun. She waited for him to snuggle with her as he had before; instead he rose, pulling on his britches. "Ian." She sat up, her glossy brown hair falling forward over her pale skin. "What is it?"_

_ He turned toward her, eyes hard. "Moira, I'm betrothed."_

_ "What?" She stared, grey eyes wide with shock; tears gathered but did not fall. She would at least keep that pride. "What do you mean?"_

_ "I have asked your sister for her hand—" Ian finished dressing. "I'm sorry." He left her that day amongst the purple heather and the three magpies. She wept, so hard that she swore her heart would give gray eyes that were wounded, she turned them to the sky and swore she would never love anyone ever again.  
><em>

Merlin awoke with a gasp clutching at his chest. Well, he supposed it would serve him right for sending her a dream and watching it play out. Feeling a little sorrier for it then he intended Merlin rose from the bed and walked down the cold hallway to Moira's room. He ignored the wrenching in his heart as he heard the weeping. With a sigh he opened the door. The hearth was barely glowing, the room so cold his breath hung in the air. He tossed some wood to fire it up more and then knelt beside the bed. "Moira," he whispered, stroking his fingers down the side of her cheek. It was dry. She was still dreaming, he frowned. "Moira, wake up." He shook her slightly. He cursed harshly as the dagger slashed at his face. "Alright, alright—" He pinned her arm down. Realization struck her and the knife fell from her hand. "Sorry, sorry." She crawled back amongst the furs muttering her apologies. Merlin sighed sat on the beds edge. "Come here." He patted the space beside him.

She scooted over and reluctantly nestled down beside him. Merlin mimicked her position and brushed a strand of hair from her cheek. "It was you wasn't it?" She gazed at him in the flickering light of the fire. "The dream." He didn't answer. "I know it was. I haven't had that dream in over a year…" She cuddled closer into the furs, seeking warmth.

"I'm sorry," His voice sounded rough in the quiet. "I wasn't thinking." He brushed lips across her temple. "Forgive me little one."

"I'm not so little," Moira said with a yawn.

"To me you are." He smirked even as she grunted. He gazed at her for a few moments; once he was sure she was sleeping he touched his lips lightly to hers. "Tonight you will dream of good things." He brushed the fringe of hair off of her face and closed his eyes for a few moments.

And she did. She dreamed of a land where no fear was there, where the sun always shone. Where Arthur sat as king and with a young blond by his side ruled the land of Camelot and all of Britain. And she was there, happy, never without a tall man by her side. When she awoke and gazed into the empty spot where Merlin had been she realized he was the man in her dreams, and smiled. "Now you dream," she whispered closing her eyes, focusing. "And take me with you." He shared in her dream of the new land, in the marriage of Arthur to the woman. He saw Moira and himself owning a patch of land as Lord and Lady. She had a garden in the shape of a Celtic cross. Herbs and flowers bloomed as she sat amongst them the sun shining down on her as she filled her basket with herbs and fresh flowers singing all the while. And when she turned toward him he saw she was with child. In his sleep he smiled and reached out for the woman that wasn't there.


	4. Chapter 4

He had brooded long enough, Merlin thought as he paced his quarters. She didn't have any right to discombobulate him this way. In curiosity he reached out for her. She was with her brother, both a relief and a curse. He heard her laugh as he hadn't before and pulled away. She was happy, he wouldn't disturb her from it, but the king however could.

An hour later Arthur was walking through the woods, a choice made with the persistence of Merlin. And as they walked he heard a haunting song. Curious he followed it, the drum beat, and the pipe calling to him. He glanced at his companions, Merlin and Kay. They entered the meadow that held the waterfall and river. In the middle with a fire burning sat the Irish clan. Balin on the Bodhran, Larkin on a fiddle and Cal had a pipe. Moira's voice rang out strong and clear. Merlin smiled, it was just the song he needed Arthur to hear. Strong and clear Malcolm and Moira sang in harmony, even though the two honed their swords, they kept in time with each other.

"I am the voice of the past that will always be  
>Filled with my sorrow and blood in my fields<br>I am the voice of the future, bring me your peace  
>Bring me your peace, and my wounds, they will heal"<p>

The trio continued to hear the song before applauding. Merlin gazed at Moira for a long moment as she drank from her canteen. "Would you sing that part again?" Merlin asked suddenly. She glanced up brows furrowed. "I have an idea…"

Across the land Morgan and Lot lay side by side on their bed, plans of the coronation in their minds when suddenly the air was filled with music. Morgan growled. "How dare they be celebrating! How dare they be—singing!" Furious she rose from her bed. "Go yell at your men for doing so."

He stared her wide-eyed. "T'isn't the men my dear…tis witchcraft."

Morgan's eyes narrowed. "Merlin and that miserable wretch that was him."

"Is she a pretty wretch?" Lot asked ignoring the shriek of anger.

"That was brilliant," Balin praised as he walked beside Merlin. "Fucking brilliant. She'll be livid."

"She is." Merlin affirmed with a wicked grin. Moira who rode on the back of Calder shook her head and rolled her eyes muttering childish. Malcolm lifted her off of Calder's back. "Grow up Moira, or grow back down. You've been much too bitter since Shannon got betrothed."

"I thought we agreed never to speak about that." She muttered.

"Why not?" Larkin inquired.

"It's his own loss that he bedded you then—"

"Enough!" Moira's shout echoed loudly. Arthur's eyes widened slightly at the sudden command and tone. Up till then he hadn't ever seen her angry, and now he could say he was glad she was on their side. "I don't see any of you courting anyone so keep off of my back about a failed relationship ya bloody imbeciles!" She stormed a head of the group, cursing her brothers.

"Who was courting her?" Kay asked.

"Lord Ian of Killkenny," Larkin said darkly. "He dragged her through the dirt, bedded her and then took our other sister in marriage." He watched his sister dip down to pluck a wild flower. "She hasn't really gotten over it."

"He broke a young girl's heart along with her hope," Balin sighed. "I'll kill him." He stated, the fury from two years before stronger than ever.

"Still angry?" Calder asked with his eyebrows raised.

Balin turned toward his brother. "Aren't ye? He dared ta lie with her and then marry her sister."

"I've let it go." The Irishman said with a nonchalant shrug.

"Really?" Larkin asked in astonishment. "I haven't."

"I have a wee bit." Balin finally admitted stopping to swat a bug away from his face.

"Mal have ye?"

"Shannon's a bitch and her husband's no better," Malcolm replied combing his fingers back through his brown hair. "Ya know Moira's always been my favorite sister."

"That's because she's like a brother," Calder stated dryly. "No man will ever marry her. She's too tall, too stubborn, she's not that pretty, she's hell to listen ta when she's mad, she's not obedient…"

"Are ya finished?" Malcolm intervened, dark eyes glaring viciously. "She is yer sister and has saved yer arse on more than one occasion." Calder scowled at the eldest brother but remained silent.

"She'll find someone who'll match her in all those areas." Balin stated. "I know she will. Even if we have ta push some men toward her."

"Playing matchmaker brother?"

"If need be."

"There'll be a ball in three weeks," Arthur stated. "Maybe then?"

"Brilliant." Balin grinned. Merlin watched Moira pluck another flower and tuck it into her hair, no it was not brilliant because he realized he wanted her for himself, but he was too stupid to admit it.

* * *

><p>The others headed back to Camelot without Moira and without Merlin. The men were used to the two having solitude and didn't question it. He followed her at a distance watching the collection of flowers. She looked peaceful, happy even. She turned toward him as if feeling him there and smiled softly. "Flower?" She held out a pure white blossom. He approached her and took it from her fingers, twirling it. "Tis an Elder blossom." He sniffed it with a smile and strode beside her as she went about gathering more.<p>

"What's this one?" He plucked a pink blossom from a tree and held it out.

"Cherry Blossom." Moira replied.

"Blossom," he cocked his head, tucked the flower into her hair. "Beautiful."

"They usually are," she said dryly.

"And no one really notices it," he circled the tree, she watched him brows furrowed. "But it blooms perfectly, bringing forth both beauty and poise. It grows into a wonderful, tall tree and those that are lucky enough get to experience it up close."

"We stopped talking about the tree awhile ago didn't we?" Moira asked as he stopped in front of her.

"Yes," he smiled. She shook her head walking away from him. "Are you really so oblivious to how you look?" Moira heaved a sigh and turned toward him. "Why deny it?" He asked finally.

"Because no one but ye believes it Merlin." She shrugged. He gave her a disbelieving look. "They don't," she cried out with a glower. "Ask around, ye'll get the same damn answer."

"I have asked around," He appeared on the other side of the tree, blocking her path. "They all say you're beautiful."

"And I say yer full of shit." Moira plucked a wild rose from the bush beside them. "They have thorns," she handed to him. "Just like me." And with that she departed.

Merlin stared down at the rose. "But they're just as beautiful." He whispered, his brown eyes flicked back to her disappearing form. "Damn fool Irish."

-0-0-0-

"Why do you look so sad?" Guinevere walked into Moira's room. The woman was seated by the fire, lacing together the flowers she had picked. "I haven't seen you smile for days, no laughing, you haven't even dueled with Gawain." It was known around the castle that Moira and Gawain were dueling partners now, merely because she liked to irritate him when she acted like a female to distract him from the fight. Moira shrugged. "A man maybe?" the blond ventured as she sniffed a bottle of scent on Moira's vanity. The silence affirmed her suspicion. "The question is what man of Camelot has caught your eye?" The Irishwoman ignored her, continuing her flowers. "Is it Kay?" Guinevere asked. "That's a possibility, but no, I don't believe it's him. Maybe Gawain—but then he's too much of a fighter…our king is out—so that leaves Merlin."

"Be careful else you'll tire yourself out naming all the men," replied Moira easily. Guinevere laughed and shook her head. "Who I have feelings for or eyes for are my business. You don't see me mentioning the king to ye, do ye?" The blonde paled immensely. "So I was right?" Moira mused, she set aside her project. "And here Igraine and I were just joking around."

"Please Moira, I beg of you, don't—"

"Your secret is safe with me." The brunette rose from her chair and walked to the window. Guinevere envied the woman's self awareness while Moira envied Guinevere's beauty and innocence. At one time in her life she had known innocence. She had understood and felt what it was to love someone and then never been with them again, to give yourself away, heart, body and soul and have it thrown back in your face. "Is it hard?" She asked softly.

Guinevere smiled ruefully. "Every single day is a battle…a war in itself." She joined Moira at the window and followed the woman's gaze. Their eyes stopped on Merlin and Arthur, she smiled to herself as she watched them celebrate about the final posts going up in the North. Her eyes landed on Leontes; she had married him, she had lain with him, she had said she loved him. Her life was a lie. She took a soft, steadying breath then turned to Moira—her mouth opened in shock. "You love Merlin."

"What?" Drawn out of her daydreams Moira stared wide-eyed at Guinevere. The blond wasn't falling for the act and grinned. "Guinevere I beg of ye," gray eyes wide with fear Moira gripped her friends arm. "Please don't say a word."

"I won't if you won't," she said civilly. Moira nodded and they shook on the deal. But even after Guinevere left Moira wondered if the woman would keep her word. She shouldn't have had any respect for her. After all the woman was living not only a life of pure sin, but a life of lies. What would one more be to her?

* * *

><p>Authors Notes: Thank you to everyone who has reviewed and favorited this story. The song used earlier on is The Voice by Celtic Woman, it's a very powerful song I suggest looking it up on youtube. In no way is Moira supposed to be a good singer, as most women of that time she was brought up learning to sing and play an instrument. Thanks again!<p> 


	5. Chapter 5

She was worried, that was absolutely no lie. She couldn't name how many times she had paced her room or dueled with Kay and her brothers and even Gawain though he was still trying to feel his way around with her. She knew it, who didn't? He was like all the other men. But her mind remained on one man. Merlin. All she had heard was that he went in search of a sword fit for a king. That was three days ago. She shouldn't have been worried, but she had been and so she had prodded and poked into his mind and saw horrors. Horrors that still plagued her dreams. With a heavy sigh she left her room, the train of her dress swirling after her. She was tired of not having any answers to where he was. She would find him herself the stupid stubborn bastard. She didn't need to. She heard the clamber from downstairs and leaned against the railing to see a bruised and bloodied Merlin telling the story of the sword. Something wasn't right; Moira could sense it the moment he departed from the room below. With a scowl she went down the hall and around to intercept him.

Merlin was so transfixed in his thoughts that he didn't hear her voice, but only felt the touch of her hand on his arm. He jerked his head up and stared into worried grey eyes. "Moira."

"What have you done?" She asked softly. He avoided her gaze. "Merlin," her grip tightened on his arm. "I felt you…"

"Do not speak of it." He hissed and brushed past her. Moira clenched her jaw and stormed after him, squeaking softly as the door to his room shut on the tip of her boot. She shoved it open and slammed it behind her; a sharp gust of wind blew harshly through the room. "You're losing your temper." He said with a slight smirk as he poured a cup of ale for himself. "It makes you a _little_ less desirable."

She scowled at him. "Don't make me hurt you more than you already are, now sit down and shut up." She marched over to the fire and lit the peat inside of it. She set a kettle of water onto the hook to boil and glanced at his bloodied ripped shirt. "Take it off."

"If you insist," Merlin replied with a smirk and shed his shirt, she took it from him and ripped it in half and then again and again until she had strips. "Well, if I'd realize you were going to do that I wouldn't have given it to you."

"Shut up." She snapped pulling the kettle off of the fire. She dipped the rags into it and laid them on the side to wait as she began to clean his side. She ignored his hisses as she scrubbed especially hard at his bruised ribs. Hell, she even smiled to herself when he did so, he had pissed her off and in her mind he deserved every single ounce of pain. Merlin fell silent once more as she moved aside. He winced as she pressed the hot cloth to his head wound. She rolled her eyes and gentled her touch. "Who did you fight?"

His words were a jumble of senselessness to her ears. "Stupid idiot men, long live the king, ha if I hadn't done anything we would have died today." Merlin began to brood as he drank through his ale and poured another one. "Swordsmith was going to kill him."

"You killed him first…didn't you?" Moira asked as a ball of ice formed in her stomach. He nodded. "It wasn't a dream then." Merlin's brown eyes gazed up at her as she stepped back. "The fire, the ice…the girl." His silence affirmed it. She closed her eyes unsure of what to say.

"Moira I didn't do it on purpose—"

"Of course you didn't!" She cried out whirling around. "Not the girl, but was the man?"

Merlin heaved a sigh. "Moira it's a bit more complicated than that."

"It better damn well be Merlin," She shot backed angrily. "This is not something to be taken lightly."

"You think I don't know that?" He snapped and rubbed his hands over his face, roughly. "Do you think I am _that_ incapable of feeling?" He glared at her. Moira dropped her gaze and focused on her feet for a long moment. His heart sank."You do. Don't you?"

"It's crossed my mind." She whispered.

Merlin fell silent watching her. "If I had no ability to feel, why would you come here tonight? Why would I take walks with you when the king needs me?"

"One very simple word," she replied icily. "Pity."

"Please tell me you're joking…" Merlin rolled his eyes. Moira said nothing. "If you think that's all there is then leave."

Moira's back went straight as an arrow, her pride flushing her cheeks crimson. "Fine. I'm sure Igraine will tend to you." Her words bit sharper then the tip of a sword into his already wounded heart. "I'll send her your way—" With a turn and whirl of hair she was gone. He all but cursed the floral scent she left in her wake.

One week turned to two and still Merlin had seen neither hide nor hair of Moira. Yes, oh yes, he had sheltered himself away, his thoughts raging, ideas, prophecies; the whole works were being laid out on pieces of parchment. Igraine brought him food twice a day, like a pet, and yet Moira never showed. Feeling empty of ideas Merlin left his solitude on a sunny day, his good mood was soaring and yet as he searched Camelot he felt it slowly dissipating. "Bridget," he stopped a honey blonde mid-stride. "Have you seen Lady Moira."

"She's gone," Bridget's brows furrowed. "I thought you would have known—"

"Merlin!" The strong Irish brogue of Malcolm shattered the thoughts forming in Merlin's mind. "What have ya done to my sister?" Strong, large fists gripped his shirt and pushed him against the wall. "Where has she gone!"

"Malcolm," Bridget laid a gentle hand on the man's arm. "He doesn't know where she is." Slowly, ever so slowly, the tense muscle beneath her hand loosened. "We'll find her."

"How long has she been gone?"

"Three days." Malcolm replied. "We thought she was with you." Larkin, Calder and Balin arrived, no questions needed to be asked when they saw their brothers face. He turned toward them. "We'll head out in an hour."

"I'll go with you," Merlin added in. "It's partly my fault."

"Then you should stay here," Larkin snapped. "You bloody ignorant fool." He stormed away, Balin on his heels chiding him. Resigned, Merlin turned to the eldest brother. Malcolm sighed, moss green eyes portraying the inner battle. Finally he nodded.

-0-0-0

How far had she ridden? Where was she? Was she lost? How far was Camelot? How far away was home? Her true home of Ireland. Moira's hips moved in unison with Garnet's stride. She heard the ocean and following her instincts headed toward it. She had been riding during the day and bedding down at night in the protective circle she created for herself and Garnet. The woody path gave way to miles of soft white sand and the expansive horizon of deep Cerulean Ocean. Here she could breathe deeply and smell the tangy sea, hear the rush of waves and the call of gulls flying high, uncaged and untamed. She dismounted from her horse and undid the straps to her saddle. She was just sliding it off when she froze. She let out a low growl. Why did he have to come? She scowled. She had been gone three days, only three days and here they were coming out in force with that bloody idiot with them!

She set up camp, lighting a small fire, and letting her mare roam the beach close by. She tossed more dry reeds onto the fire, settling down on her fur lined cloak. She figured they would be on her camp by sun-up. She had taken her time getting to where she was. Moira was surprised they hadn't found her the first night she camped and she was on the grounds of Camelot for that one. Imbeciles. All of them. A woman was entitled to her solitude, even if that solitude meant leaving the safety of Camelot. Garnet plodded back over and nuzzled her mistress' shoulder. "T'isn't fair Garnet," whispered the Irishwoman, the sting of tears beginning. "I want freedom from everything," She leaned her forehead against the mare's velvet nose. "I want my own life." She confided everything to the mare as she watched the stars gather to play in the inky black sky. She confided as she always had to the animal. And on some level she knew that the horse understood just as a human would.

0-0-0

Merlin was silent as they rode into the night. There was no stopping, not for these men. There was a woman alone at night that was enough incentive to ride on. He searched, and was blocked. Scowling he drew along side of Mal. "Where's her favorite place to go?"

"Moira?" Malcolm slid a glance at Merlin. "Anywhere outside. She enjoys picking her flowers, but we searched the meadow. She loves her river, but we went down there, then there's the stables and the woods—"

"Cliffs," Larkin piped up from the back of their line. "She loved the cliffs in Ireland, said it was the one place to feel like she was free."

"The coast?" Merlin drew his steed back. His eyes sought Larkin's in the dark. "The ocean?"

"Aye. She loves it there too."

"We're heading the wrong way," Merlin wheeled his mount. "Follow me." With a shout he set off at a gallop, a line of fire lighting the way. He could feel her, she was sleeping, her guards were down. They rode at a hard gallop until he could smell the ocean, only then did he slow. There was an argument behind him as the brothers debated on how to approach her. Whether they should yell and fight her or just be glad she was safe. Merlin knew exactly when and where he was going to deal with her.

0-0-0

She woke from a deep sleep as Garnet nickered in the misty dawn. She knew the nicker well; it was a greeting that Merlin's stallion received daily. It was answered with a deeper nicker. She felt betrayed; the damn horse was in love with Merlin's. Traitor, she thought darkly. She heard the soft brogues of her brothers and then the harsh tone of Merlin. "Pick her up, let's leave already, this place is probably riddled with thieves." She was lifted into the comforting arms of Calder and then passed off. She stiffened at the smell of Merlin; sandalwood, leather and pine. She forced herself to relax as they spoke in soft tones amongst themselves. She settled into the warmth of Merlin and let sleep take her.

"You scared us," Merlin whispered softly. She stirred in and out of consciousness. She murmured a little, nuzzling closer, her sub conscious betraying her as the horse had. He searched inside of her for a moment, seeing what she was dreaming. Assured that they were peaceful he slowly left.

"It's not nice to pry," Larkin stated sourly from Merlin's right. The sorcerer glanced up bemused. "Oh aye, I can tell." He answered the unspoken question. "Moira got most of the gift, and I a few meager leftovers." There was no bitterness in his voice, but rather relief.

"How did it get acquired?" Merlin asked curiously.

"That's Balin's part…he's the story teller."

"Oh bloody hell," the black haired man groused from ahead of them. "It's too early."

"Man up." Ordered Malcolm with a laugh. Balin grumbled as he slowed his horse to ride between Larkin and Merlin. "Thousands of years ago there lived a race of human known as the Druids. They were magical folk, faeries and elves and the like," Balin began. Merlin focused in, his mind clouded with the images of mists surrounding ancient stone ruins, hood figures under the moonlight. "They learned their magic from the earth, from the elements, and learned to tame it. They battled with it, forged unions with it. It's said that their high priest slept with a princess of Ireland, and she got her magic that way. Through love, and a perfect union. His gift to her is that it would be passed down through her generations, so she would always have a part of him." Balin took a swig of water from his flask. "Years went by, the princess had sons, her sons had sons and then one day our Da married our mother and she had that little bitch," He smiled lovingly at his sleeping sister. "Mum knew the moment she had her that she had the bloodline. The blood of elves and faeries. Our little faerie queen is what our Da called her. Her magic will pass to daughters."

"Does her sister have it?" Merlin asked, brows furrowed.

"No," Malcolm answered. "Shannon wasn't open to learning. Sure she has it in her, but it's faint, very faint." And something else in his tone had Merlin wondering if that faint bit of magic was dark.

* * *

><p>Authors Notes: As always thank you so much to all those who have reviewed this story. I'm debating putting another one up with Moira in it, though she'd be paired with Kay, non-magical, but a similar gist with her being the little pain in the ass fighter. The last episode kinda killed the romance ideas for me, however, I will finish this as best I can. I took some artistic license with the show (not mine btw, shows is all starz) and with the Druids (no idea who they belong to)<p> 


	6. Chapter 6

The next day after Moira's disappearing act Merlin sat in her room with her. Igraine was with the two helping Moira plan for the ball that Arthur had placed in the women's hands. As he should, Moira thought haughtily. A ball planned by a man was a bed idea all in itself. Merlin sat his legs crossed at the small writing desk, Igraine sat in an armchair and was busily jotting down notes as the ideas came to both women. "Is the menu planned?" Moira asked.

"Bridget and Guinevere are doing it as we speak."

"Moira," Larkin rapped his knuckles on the outside of her door. She turned and nodded him in, hands busy twisting to strands of hair together. He nodded to Merlin and Igraine who had been visiting his sister. Larkin tried wet his dry throat, but to no avail. "I have some bad news little cub." His eyes met hers in the glass. They were wide with fear. He spoke quickly. "Not Da, or Mother." There was instant relief. He glanced at Merlin and Igraine, and then decided to go for it. "Shannon's comin' 'ere." He said it so fast that her ears barely caught it. She pinned the strand of hair back slowly, long fingers twirling the second pin. Her eyes met Merlin's in the mirror. "To Camelot." He finished lamely.

"I see," Moira went through the same motions on the other side of her head. Merlin furrowed his brows, trying to read her. He was blocked each and every time. He was able to catch the cold ball of ice that sat in her stomach, and with a quick nudge with his mind took it from her. "She comes alone?"

"N-not really…" Larkin fumbled for his words, and rubbed a hand over his hair. Malcolm entered the room with his other brothers, a solid wall of flesh and muscle; a shield to protect her. "Ye see—"

"She and Ian are settling here," Calder intervened sick of his brothers mishandling of the situation. Moira's brush dropped out her hand and clattered on the vanity. The man went on, hand raised in a peaceful way. "Now, before ye lose yer head and start—"

"Too late," Larkin backed up away from his sister as she rose. The fire that had been coals flickered to life. Stepping forward Merlin motioned for Igraine to get back in the same motion.

"Moira," Merlin was by her side now even as the fire in the hearth began to rise higher, its flame reaching out like willow branches in a harsh breeze. "Moira, listen to me!" His hand gripped her arm, hard. Her gray eyes found hazel, though he was sure they were seeing something else entirely. "Stop it." He ordered. The fire flared once before the wayward flames began to retract. "Thata girl, good girl." He gently pushed her back into her chair. Her brothers let out a combined sigh. She jerked her head to one side then the other before twitching for a few moments, irritated at the loss of control. "When do they arrive?" Merlin asked Cal.

"Two days or so," replied Calder with a concerned glance at his sister.

"Just in time fer the ball, how convenient." Moira stated bitterly. Igraine laid her hands on Moira's shoulders and smiled reassuringly at her. "She's such a bitch." The younger woman whispered as Igraine knelt in front of her. Moira stared at the maroon cloth of her dress "She's so damned perfect and beautiful—" her eyes sought for Igraine's, for reassurance.

"We'll make you the most beautiful one there, Moira." Igraine promised.

Moira smiled woefully, shaking her head. "Ye haven't seen Shannon Igraine…she'll always win that battle."

0-0-0

Moira was right about one thing and that was Shannon was gorgeous. Merlin watched them ride from the turrets. Moira stood beside him in her best dress. "See what I mean." She muttered. "She's gorgeous."

"You'll always be more beautiful than she." Merlin hugged her around the shoulders. "To me, to Gawain and Kay as well."

"All of you?"

"I'm sure there's more, but they're who I stay around." Merlin kissed her temple. "Plus you have me to show off."

"You flatter yourself Merlin." She said dryly. He laughed and with her arm through his made their way to the front gates. Arthur, Kay, Leontes and Gawain joined the brothers and herself.

"You should be excited." Arthur whispered. "Put the past behind you."

"I'll fake my joy sire." Moira replied. "She doesn't deserve the real thing."

"She looks happy." Larkin said easily. "Then again I suppose one would be if they stole their sisters betrothed."

"Larkin—" Malcolm warned. His eyes roved over his other sister. "My God she's packed some weight—"

"She's pregnant you idiot," Moira growled. She went to turn away, but Merlin's hand held her firm.

He turned his head, lips brushing her cheek. "Do not be fooled Moira—she's doing it on purpose to upset you."

"It's working." She hissed.

"Welcome to Camelot!" Arthur called out as Ian and Shannon arrived. "Your sister and brothers have proven to be excellent additions, we hope you'll be the same." Shannon brushed back her honey blond hair and with the help of Leontes and Arthur dismounted.

"She's not pregnant," Merlin muttered. "It's a pillow."

"Merlin, it's not nice to prod someone's mind," Moira nudged him. "Thank you though."

"My dear sistah." Shannon outstretched both arms. With something that was akin to pain on her face Moira stepped forward and hugged her sister. "Shannon," she whispered. "Your baby's awfully soft…like a pillow." Moira pulled back smiling at the shock on her sisters face. Ian held out his arms, the motioned for her to come forward. "Lord Ian if ye believe fer one second I will ever be back in yer arms ye are sorely mistaken." She turned away from him with a toss of her hair and walked back to Merlin. Ian flicked his gaze from Merlin to Moira. _We'll see _he thought.

-0-0-0

He watched her as she walked through the banquet hall, speaking to folks, but mainly his gaze rested on the table of warriors she sat at. They didn't treat her as a wench—then again maybe wenches were treated differently in Camelot. He wasn't aware of the gaze on him either, Merlin stood above, leaning on the railing keeping an eye on both of them. He had seen things—dreamed things. His solitude had diminished when Moira had come to tell him stop hiding, and thinking. And he had. Merlin watched her as she left the table that sat Gawain, her bothers, Kay and Leontes. Where was she heading? He began moving down the path and stopped as Ian rose. Quickly he tapped into Ian's head. _Let the fun begin_ was the thought that echoed. He closed his eyes searching for Moira's. _I just want to get away. Run away. That's what I'll do, I'll run away…Who's following me? _He got the same gut wrenching worry that she did.

With a curse under his breath he ran outside. He caught the last part of her dress and Ian's leg as they disappeared down the wooded path. He heard Ian's voice before he even drew close. "I've missed ye Moira." He was hidden in the shadows now, picking his way carefully to avoid noise. Moira had lit a torch. Merlin grinned, she knew the woods like the back of her hand, but she had realized the follower. Clever girl. Her features were almost ghost like in the light. She was pale, he thought, paler than usual. "She can't give me a child."

"That's yer own fault." Moira replied taking a step back from him.

Ian grabbed her arm, eyes narrowed. "No, no ye see ye clouded my mind, I couldn't think, I couldn't decide—"

"Ye chose Shannon, not me. This is yer battle with her." Moira shook her arm free. Ian gripped her arm harder. "Let go Ian."

"Not until ye become my mistress." His eyes were wild. "Ye must give me a child!"

"Mistress! Child!" Moira cried out, her mouth hanging open. "Are ye out of yer bloody mind ye fool?" Merlin stifled a laugh as Moira backhanded Ian's chest. "Now ye listen ta me Ian of Killkenny, ye broke my heart into a thousand pieces, ye married my sister after bedding me, ye stole my innocence, my heart, and my love. Whatever is happenin' ta ye now ye deserve!"

"Moira—"

"Don't Moira me," she pushed him back a step. "If ye had for one second loved me half as much as I had loved ye then I wouldn't be so hurt," another shove. "Ye never intended to marry me," another shove. "Ye built me up ta let me down," another shove. "And if yer missin' me now or wishin' ta bed me then take yer wishes and fuck yerself!" She let her fist fly into his face and stormed back towards the castle. Merlin barely containing his glee caught up to her and grabbed her arm. He barely missed the fist. "Oh Merlin!" Moira bit back a laugh cupping his face. "Sorry love." He cocked his head at the endearment.

"In a good mood are we?" He raised his black brows, falling into stride beside her.

"The best." She replied all smiles and gray eyes bright with mirth. "Were ye watchin'?" She gave him a dark look that still twinkled with laughter.

"I was making sure you were safe."

"Oh sure," the woman snorted darkly. "Ye were hopin' for a fight."

"Well I rather enjoyed you attacking him." The sorcerer admitted with a cheeky grin. "I didn't think you had it in you." She laughed and left him on his own. Merlin watched her walk to the safety of the walls before turning back toward the forest, searching. "Yes, you'll try again won't you, you bastard," he muttered to himself. "But you can't have her. I'll make damn sure of it."


	7. Chapter 7

Night had fallen over Camelot, tucking her dark shrouds around the ruins. Stars twinkled amongst the gray clouds that had spread out over the sky. Rain was coming, she could feel it. Torches flickered in the courtyard where Moira walked. She had felt trapped inside the walls. She frowned as she rubbed her hands up and down her sleeved arms. She never felt trapped in Camelot. Never. But now, her gray eyes flicked to the lights within, now her haven had become her own personal Hell. She lifted her skirts to avoid a pile of animal dung and continued on the way to the stables. She had grown use to seeing her family's banner over her mares stall. She gazed at the dark green banner with the Claddagh symbol smack-dab in the middle framed in gold. She traced her fingers across the coarse fabric. Garnet stuck her head over the door and blew out a breath that smelt of sweet hay. She laid her head beside the mare's cheek, stroking the soft hair.

The last time she had felt this lost was after Ian had dropped her. She was disgusted by that fact. She squeezed her eyes shut as she heard someone walk in. She didn't want them to see the tears that were quickly gathering. Merlin walked by her and went to his horse on the other side of the aisle. He stood, stroking the velvety black nose. "Have you thought of breeding?" He asked suddenly.

Moira's eyes popped open. "Excuse me?"

"Your mare."

"Oh—" Her cheeks flushed bright red. "N-no. Not really." He smirked at her. "Ye didn't specify about the horses Merlin, don't look so proud."

"I'm trying not to my dear lady," he answered genuinely. "However I am serious about breeding them. She'll be in heat soon."

"Aye she will," Moria walked over to the stallions stall, eyeing both man and beast. "He be a fair sire."

"Fair?" Merlin placed a hand over his heart. "You wound me."

"Good." She entered the stall, running an expert hand down the steed's legs. Abastor turned his head toward the woman then looked toward his rider, ears rotating back and forth. "He's of good stock," she decided dusting her hands off. Merlin leaned against the wall intrigued. "Have ye bred him before?"

"Never." Merlin answered. "He's been waiting for the right mare." She shot him a searing look. "It's true. Abastor chooses his own."

"Abastor…that sounds familiar."

"It's from Greek mythology," Merlin replied with a wave of his hands.

"Pluto had four black steeds—" She added on with a small smile.

"Said to take away the stars."

"Of course," she murmured running a hand of the sleek black coat. "Why wouldn't ye think of that?" She left the stall and tapped a long finger against her lips in thought. "He is of good stock…" she began thinking out loud. "Sturdy legs, fair temperament, fast, sturdy. Good coloring. Bloodlines seem decent."

"Wherever did you learn about horses?" Merlin was not at Garnet's stall taking a closer look at the mare.

"My father," she answered absentmindedly. "How is he in battle?"

"Your father?" teased Merlin.

She rolled her eyes. "The horse."

"He's sure of himself."

"I bet he is." She responded sardonically. He grinned at her. "Alright, when she's in heat we'll get it done."

"Will we?"

"Yer impossible Merlin."

"You've been avoiding me since the arrival of Shannon. Or is it everyone you're avoiding."

"It's none of yer business." Moira led the way out of the stables and waited for Merlin to head toward the hall. He didn't. "Are ye going in?"

"Are ye?" He mocked her accent with a twinkle in his eyes. She growled. "You've nothing to scared of in there."

"Oh, but I do," she heaved a sigh. "Ye've heard the rumors of us."

"Yes, yes utter nonsense." He shrugged. She arched a brow. "Alright, half nonsense."

"Merlin…"

"So some may be true."

"That's better. But then the rumors have be going about you and Lady Igraine." Moira tried hard to keep her words light. Merlin's eyes flicked to her. She gazed at him steadily, though her heart pounded with the fear of being hurt again. "They say that there was more before Morgan seduced you."

"Merely a friendship," Merlin frowned at her. "It's easy to take advantage of a person in mourning."

"Is that all it was?" She asked icily. He nodded. "I find that hard to believe."

"You shouldn't," He reached out, stroked his fingers down the side of her soft cheek. "You know what I believe."

"Dreams are not visions Merlin," she withdrew from the warmth of his hand.

"Can you blame me?" He asked softly. "The boy was killed, and you ran off the day before. What was I to think? I thought both of you had been killed. Morgan saw the advantage and took it."

"She took more than advantage—" She moved away from him. "She took ye as well." She would walk, she decided, walk away from him before hurt could get it's black hands around her.

"Moira…" He reached for her, but she jerked away. "Please."

"No." She walked away from him before he could get a word in edgewise. He made sure she was within the walls before going back inside, furious at Morgan, furious at himself for hurting her.

0-0-0

Perhaps she had been a fool. Perhaps she should have let him explain. Moira lay in her bed even as the first rooster crowed of dawns approach. She rolled onto her side, the chemise she wore sliding off of her shoulder. Gray eyes watched as the sky painted itself with purple and red hues. She prodded gently with her mind. It gave her some relief to know he was awake and as restless as she was. She heard the door opening behind her, and quickly tugged the furs up. She turned her head in time to see Merlin close the door. He stood with his back against it, surveying her. "Merlin."

"I wanted to apologize for last night," he walked forward and placed a white blossom on the table beside her bed. She smiled, it was an Elder Blossom. "I realize I hurt you…"

"Ye didn't."

"I see," He pursed his lips in thought. "So I read you wrong?" She growled softly. "Oh do behave. You prod at me all the damned time."

"Only because yer a difficult man." Moira shot back. Merlin sat on the edge of the bed leaning closer to her, the sweet scent of lavender filling his senses. "Tis hard ta tell sometimes if ye say what ye truly feel."

"And what is it I feel?" asked Merlin softly.

"Fear." Moira answered. It was met with silence. The kind of unsettling silence that had Moira casting her eyes downward to look at the furs. The mattress beside her sank as Merlin went to her side of the bed and sat. "You fear what Morgan can do, you fear that all the visions will be wrong."

"And what do you fear Moira?" He asked, his fingers stroking softly over her silky brown hair. She glanced up, gray eyes shifting side to side as she tried to read his face. She quirked her mouth in a tiny smile.

"A cage," She answered gently. "To be trapped for all time." She thought for a moment. "To be kept away until old age or disuse gets to me. To be trapped to a time where valor has gone beyond recall or duty." She dropped her gaze. "I have a future here Merlin, one that involves fighting. I didn't have that back home."

"I'd prefer you didn't have it here, that's not why I brought you here."

"Why did ye then?" She challenged. He sighed heavily, trying to hold onto his patience.

"I had a vision, one that I'm not sharing with anyone. You were brought here for many reasons. I just happen to dislike the fact that you're a warrior."

"In doing so ye dislike me as a person," she shot back. "A warrior is who I am."

"You're wrong," He said softly. "You are first and foremost a woman." Merlin leaned forward and pressed his lips to her forehead gently. "And that's how you will remain to me." She smiled softly at him. "Now, about this ball…"

"It'll be in two days," Moira leaned back against the headboard. "Igraine, Bridget and Guinevere and I will begin on decorating today. Everyone who cares to has found someone to go with. Dresses have been bought or made, so on and so on."

"You've been busy."

"It's been horrible." She groused. "I don't like busy work when I could be training."

"I know, but Camelot does need this you said it yourself." Merlin smiled. "You're very own words I might add."

"Of course ye would," she muttered darkly.

"Do you have an escort?" Merlin inquired lifting her chin.

"Does it like I need one?" She replied. "I thought ye'd be taking Igraine."

"There are plenty of other men that could take her. I want to take you." Merlin brushed his lips softly over hers, just a taste to appease him. "Go with me." He whispered, lips going once more of hers.

"I can do that," she agreed gently. He smiled and tucked his hand at the nape of her neck pulling her into his warm embrace and searing kiss. She melted into his arms, feeling as though she belonged there. He lost himself in the kiss, so much so that the burning embers grew into a happily crackling fire, spreading its warmth through the cold room. He drew back, slowly, surely. His warm hard hand cupped her face, his thumb stroking gently across her cheekbone. "There'll be more of that. I promise you." He whispered huskily. "But for now little one, sleep."

"Don't call me little one after ye've kissed me." She grumbled. He laughed and tucked the furs around her, dropping one last kiss on soft lips. "Sleep well."

"Where are you going?" She asked with a yawn.

"To…" he glanced down at the bulge in his breeches. "Sleep." He grinned at her, before departing thinking of dead animals or running water…anything really.

* * *

><p>Authors Note: I can't express how grateful I am for the reviews. As you can see there was a few spoilers so beware if you are caught up in the series. The story with Moira and Kay will be going up soon as well. It might be interesting doing those two at once. But anyways, steadily moving along. Thanks again all!<p> 


	8. Chapter 8

It was the day of the ball and preparations were beginning bright and early. Igraine sat on the edge of Moira's bed watching her sleep. She was an unloved child from her mother, she could see that. She was curled in a small ball beneath the furs. Igraine was not oblivious to the fresh white flower on the pillow. She had seen Merlin walking with the woman the past weeks, an odd couple, but interesting at the same time. "Moira, wake up."

"I don't want to mum," the Irish woman rolled over and away. Igraine smiled and tugged at the fur. "All right all right." Moira sat up rubbing her eyes. "Lady Igraine." She began to rise but Igraine shook her head.

"I'm going to ask you something Moira…"

"Anything my lady."

She brushed a hank of hair off Moira's forehead. "Will you be my daughter today?" Igraine smiled softly. "It's the ball and I know all you have here are your brothers and that _sister_…"

"I'd love to." Moira grinned. "I can't tell you the last time—" She broke off, brow furrowed. Igraine patted her hand. "I don't even have a dress," she admitted sheepishly.

"Yes you do," Igraine nodded to the corner of her room. "I thought you'd look good in midnight blue and I'm certain I'm right."

"My lady…thank you so much."

"Now who is escorting you?" Igraine left the bed to set out clothes for the girl. Moira washed her face and brushed her hair. "No one?" She got a shake of the head.

"That's hard to believe." Igraine misread the shake as she laced up the back of Moira's dress, and patted her shoulders. "We'll get someone."

Moira looked at the small pile of white elder blossoms that had been collecting on her table since the last tie she saw Merlin. "Actually someone has asked…"

He smelt the light floral scent before he felt her within his chambers. He set aside the book he had been looking at as Moira crossed the floor. "Good morning," she greeted him setting down a plate of fresh fruit. "You haven't eaten for a few days." Her eyes surveyed the sheets of paper hanging around.

"How do you know?"

"I haven't seen you at dinner," She replied softly. "You've got shadows under your eyes." she traced a finger below the circles, concern on her face. Merlin's stomach tightened and he felt a stirring in his loins.

"You've gotten braver in the week I haven't seen you." Merlin glanced up at her face and saw that she or someone else had added rouge. He leaned back mildly amused. "What's the occasion?"

"The ball."

"That's tonight?" Merlin cursed, ran his hands over his head, scrubbed his face. "Hell."

"I take it I'm going alone?"

"The hell you are," Merlin rose from his seat with a scowl. She smiled sweetly at him. With a small smile in return he put an arm around her shoulders and walked her out of his room. "I'm sure they need your help."

"I'm sure yer wrong." Moira stopped in her tracks. Merlin laughed. "T'isn't funny!" She stamped her foot, pouting.

"Off with you." He patted her lightly on the bottom and earned himself a sharp punch to the shoulder before she scowled and marched off. He sighed softly his eyes watching her leave. In a few weeks time he would be the one leaving.

"And one and two and three and four and your hands should be light like a birdie on a branch," Owen sang, bounding the hilt of his sword on a barrel keeping time. Larkin and Mal danced together. " And one and two and three and four and Larkin doesn't lead he follows like a girl." Owen cursed clutching his nose as Larkin withdrew his fist.

Moira walked into the courtyard and observed her brothers; Owen with a wad of cloth up his nose was keeping time still. **"**And one and two and twirlie twirlie twirlie! And one and two and you're still getting it _wrong_! And one and two and three and four, and Larkin can hit me all day cause he hits like a... what? 

** "**A girl!" Gawain sang out grinning.

"Why you little!" Larkin launched at Owen, Mal in the middle shouting to stop. They glanced at Moira as she let out a low wshitle and walked past.

"And ye can do better?" Mal called after her.

She smirked at him over her shoulder. "Of course I can."

"Good, so why don't you show us then?" Gawain chimed in.

She thought about for a moment. "No."

"Ask her nicely." Owen muttered, checking his nose for more blood.

"Moira, will you please teach us to dance so we don't make ourselves look like fools tonight?" Gawain muttered darkly.

"Ah." Larkin glowered.

"Please." The men chorused.

"Fine."

Merlin smiled from his window as he watched Moira coach each brother through a dance, then Gawain and then Kay. He shook his head amused that none of them knew a simple dance. Even he knew it. His eyes dropped to the papers on his worktable. His work could wait. She entranced him, he decided as he walked along the rampart to watch more of the dancing, she bewitched him. It couldn't—wouldn't last long. He had seen it, dreamt it, and known it. Gray eyes lifted up to meet hazel; a warm smile bowed her mouth upward. Malcolm turned to see who and lifted his chin in response.

"Balin," Merlin called down. "Will you play tonight?"

"Do the faeries come out at night?" The Irishman shot back with a grin. As good an answer as any, Merlin decided. He walked into the courtyard as the men finally dispersed. Moira stood in the center of the group cheeks flushed, brown locks at the winds hands. "Teaching the barbarians manners?" Joked Merlin.

"Someone has to," Moira lifted a shrug with a smirk. "Are you a barbarian Merlin?"

"You'll have tonight to figure that out." He replied. He held out a hand. "Walk with me?" She nodded, laying her hand in his.

"Lady Moira," Ian exited the doors of Camelot with a hand lifted in greeting. "Ah, Merlin…" He dropped his hand noting that Moira had her hand in Merlin's. "Moira may I speak with you?" He flicked his green eyes over to hazel. "Alone."

Her hand tightened around Merlin's. "What for?" She asked, gray eyes dark as storm clouds. "We've already had one discussion." She observed the light shadow beneath his left eye. "I think we both know how that went." Merlin looked down at her, even with her hand in his she stood alone. And it seemed she always would. Her hand withdrew from his as Ian stepped closer. He eyes flickered once more to Merlin and held. "He won't be movin' boy-o," Moira said softly. "Get used to that."

"Just for a moment." Ian insisted. "Or we can talk tonight."

"Let's do that then," Moira replied, brows lifted as if waiting for him to deny it. He walked away from them; she waited until he was far from hearing range. "I swear I am going to maim, murder, castrate, strangle, hang and poison him."

A smile spread across Merlin's face. "That's a lot of revival spells, one could die from it."

"It'd be worth it." She grinned innocently at him, he laughed and hugged her.

She heard Malcolm on the bagpipes even before she entered the great hall, it was a rousing jig joined by Larkin on the Hurdy-Gurdy and Calder on the Lute. Moira grinned as she entered the hall, Merlin all in black joined her side with a murmured approval. She was a vision in midnight blue; her polished oak locks in tumbles, elder blossoms weaved throughout. The song ended and other musicians took their places. Mal walked over to them. "Moira," He hugged her tightly. "Ye look beautiful."

"Thank ye," She brushed at imaginary dust on his forest green tunic. "Ye'll be fetchin' a wife in no time." She tried hard not to imagine it, but it still brought a little tear to her eye.

"Well, before then I'm entitled to dance with a beautiful woman," Mal grabbed her hand. "She'll be a moment Merlin."

"Take your time!" Merlin called after him with a laugh. He watched as the joined the others on the floor, but when it came time for a jig, all eyes were on the brother and sister. They moved as they had from the time they could walk, with the music in their blood and heaven in their eyes. They twirled, dipped, kicked and leaped through the jig, laughing the entire time. Merlin leaned against a pillar, his hand on the worn wood, nothing but Moira in his eyes. Ian watched him, uneasily. The look in his eyes frightened the Irishman. If Merlin had his way Moira would forever be out of his grasp. The jig ended, and was followed by a slower dance.

Ian, plotting his path out, cut Merlin off and became Moira's partner. She cast a look behind her at Merlin, brows furrowed. He glowered at the Irishman, but made no move. _Fine then, _Moira thought darkly. _I'll take care of this._ She flicked her eyes up onto the face of the man she had once loved more than anything in the world. "Where's Shannon?"

"Oh, talking with Guinevere, female discussion and the like."

"Ye'd fit right in then," She said with a sickly sweet smile.

He tossed his head back with a laugh that drew Shannon's eyes, and had fear niggling at the back of her mind. "Oh Moira, I have missed your humor."

"And my bed, from what I've been gathering." She held off further remarks as they changed partners. Kay glanced past her at Ian and then down into her face. "It's fine Kay."

"I don't like him," the King's brother said gently. "I don't like him touching you, or looking at you the way he is."

"Kay, ye looked at me the same way when I came here."

"But that, my dear Moira, was suspicious not blood lust." Kay brushed a kiss of her knuckles as he bowed. "And you've proven your worth. Merlin's a lucky man."

"And Bridget's a lucky woman." She curtsied away from him and back into Ian's arms. "As you were saying."

"I've a proposition for ye," Ian drew her from the dance to a lonely corner. Seeing this Merlin moved from his spot.

"For the second, possibly third time I am not going ta give ye a child."

"Help Shannon then," Ian clutched her forearms tightly. "I know what you are." She scowled at him. "If you don't help I will have you exiled."

"From my own country?" She snapped. "T'isn't how it works laddy, you'd have to have more power than a lord."

"I have my ways. All I ask of you is to help her bear me a son," Ian laid his forehead against hers. "Please."

"Ye lost yer chance for favors a long time ago," she whispered, and stepped back. "Or have ye forgotten?"

"How could I Moira? I was your first."

"And my last. But as I recall ye didn't care." Moira lifted her bared shoulders in a shrug. "I was nothing to you. I was a pawn, a single pawn to get into the McCreedy household." She felt Merlin behind her and with it his voice in her mind. _Give him what for Moira, he needs to be knocked down a peg. _With a wolfish smile she laid into him. "Ye never loved me, ye never cared. All ye ever wanted was Shannon, is it any wonder she's not pregnant when ye didn't even have the gall to tell my own sister that ye had bedded me!" Merlin smiled, oh she was a sight to behold, anger flushed her cheeks a rosy red hue and the temper merely played with her power, just slightly, enough to stir the air. "And now, now ye come crawling on yer hands and knees to me begging for help. What have ye ever done to help me, eh?"

"I gave you love!"

"Ye gave me sorrow!" Her voice cracked. "There was no love from you. I was a fool." She turned away from him, she grabbed Merlin by the hand and dragged him with her, moving into the dance as smooth as a river rock.

"You, my dear, are a hellion."

"I rather enjoy it," she replied softly. "That hurt a little more than I had thought it would." She admitted. He frowned at her words, and pulled her closer to him. His eyes landed on Ian and for his own amusement watched as the flower garland fell from the ceiling on top of him.


	9. Chapter 9

There was a storm brewing. She could feel it in her blood, see it in the skies. The cold wind rolled off the ocean and wrapped its hands around her, chilling her to the bone. It stung her eyes, made them tear and run as if she had eaten a spicy food. Merlin watched uneasily from the tower he had crafted into his new work room. She knew. She had to have known. Why else would she be out there? Maybe she didn't know, maybe she just wanted her solitude. Yes, that had to be it. She wanted solitude. Even as he settled down at his worktable he was reaching out to her. _If I did help him what would happen_? She asked herself.

_Don't help him, _ He inserted his own words into her mind. _We don't know his motive. _

_ Is there a motive? _ She challenged, glancing toward the tower. He wasn't in the window. Scowling she lifted the edge of her skirt and headed inside.

_ Everyone has a motive. _ He replied. Silence. He frowned, it could have been that she had broken the contact to rant and rave about him, not unusual. The door to his workroom slammed open. Moira stood in the doorway frame by the fire from the torches. "And who do ye think ye are ta tell me what ta do?" She snarled. "Motive or no if it gets him away from me and Camelot then by God I will help that rat bastard!"

Merlin dropped the piece of charcoal he had been using and rose to his full height. Though Moira's legs itched to run, and shrink into a corner she stood her ground. "If it' your wish to do so Moira, I can't stop you."

"That's always yer way isn't it?" She whispered coldly. "Ye never stop me. I always end up doing somethin' stupid and ye never stop me!"

"You're too damn stubborn to try and get even a lick of sense into that barricaded brain of yours!" Merlin shouted back. She slammed the door shut behind her with a sharp gust of wind. "Oh, what are you going to do now?" He asked irritably. "Blow wind at me? Scary!"

"Don't test me Merlin," She warned through gritted teeth. "I'm not in the mood."

"You're not in the mood—" He repeated. "I'm going to bring up a moment that happened last night at the ball, care to come with me?"'

"Don't ye dare!" It was too late.

_ The dancers circled around the hall gracefully, as if on air. She stood to the side, catching her breath from the wild spin Gawain had taken her in. Merlin slipped up beside her. "You surpass your sister tonight," He murmured in her ear. "You shine like the north star while she remains to be on seen."_

_ "Ye flatter me Merlin," she replied uneasily. "T'isn't something I'm used to." She glanced up at him, gray eyes like smoke. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" _

_ "I'm in a rare mood." He replied, taking her hand to lead her away. "The ball is boring."_

_ Her heart beat a little faster as she realized where they were heading. "Merlin…"_

_ "Garnet and Abastor have been, shall we say, having a rollicking good time." _

_ "Ye worry me sometimes," Moira admitted with a smirk. "Has she taken to him yet?"_

_ "Oh, I'm sure of it." Merlin pushed the door to his room open. "Has her mistress taken to anyone?" He asked lightly. She smiled, moved into his arms. "Yes?" He edged on, unsurely. She nodded, rising onto her toes to press her lips to his. "Hmm, yes indeed." He wrapped his arms around her, plunging into the kiss blindly. She wanted this, oh yes she wanted this. Moira pulled the tunic from his breeches, running her hands under and up. Smooth, chiseled muscle rippled beneath her palm. His lithe fingers untied the strings of her dress. Moving his lips down the smooth column of her neck, the dress pooled at her feet. His large hands lifted her off her feet and laid her gently on the bed. _

_ Leaning back he ran his gaze along her body let his hand run from her thigh to her rib cage. His hands cupped her supple breasts, thumbs caressing the nipples into peaks. "Do you know how long I've imagined this?" He whispered pressing his lips to the side of her neck, combing the hair from her face. She pulled the tunic away from his body pulling him close, relishing the feeling of his hard muscles, the smoothness of his skin. He freed himself of his pants. She lay beneath him; gray eyes darkened with passion, polished oak hair tussled across the silken sheets. He ran his head down between her breasts, large callused fingers leaving a trail of goose bumps. Finally his hand found its mark between her legs. _

_ She was hot, wet and ready, Still, he thought as he kissed her, still all he wanted to do was please her. She was like a well aged wine, sweet to the taste, drugging and addictive. She writhed beneath him, impatient as always. His eyes went cross-eyed as her long fingers wrapped around his length. Laughing hoarsely he pressed a kiss to each peaked nipple before letting himself slide into the warm abyss. She clamped around him, an anchor in the middle of a raging storm. It wasn't like her to be like this, Moira thought as her body rocked against Merlin's. So free with herself, so confident. She rolled them, and rose high above him, hips moving in her own rhythm. Merlin watched the power darken in her eyes, throughout Camelot the fires rose higher, flames dancing. His hands lay on her hips, hazel eyes watching the woman above him. His grip tightened as he flipped them, grunting and panting he shook and shuddered even as she bit his shoulder in an attempt to block out a loud moan. She clenched and unclenched around his softening cock. _

_ Merlin dropped his forehead onto hers, panting softly. He brushed his fingers gently on her hair, kissing the side of her chin, her eyebrows, her eyelids, the tip of her nose and finally her mouth. She smiled lazily against his lips and murmured in displeasure as he pulled out and flopped not too ceremoniously on his side. She curled up on her side, sedated from both wonderful sex. Merlin lay on his side, gazing at her. She looked like a cat that had gorged itself on a bucket of cream. She nestled into his arms, closing her eyes. Merlin press his lips together, and knew by the light that was filling him he would love her, and lose her. The words that had entered his head had been foreign but they planted a seed of doubt. 'Moira doesn't cry, but she'll cry for you'._

Moira yanked herself away from him, cheeks flushed, body taut. His eyes were dark as he watched her. She stepped away, shaking her head. "We shouldn't have—"

"Why?"

"Merlin, if there was—if we had—If I become—" She couldn't even find the words. Merlin narrowed his eyes, and gave up searching her. _Baby_. The single thought had him cursing and pacing. She stood where she was, hands clasped together. "Didn't think of that did ye? Of what a child from both Druid and Sorcerer could make."

"Moira…are you?" Merlin crossed the floor to her, eyes worried.

"I don't know Merlin. Tis to soon…" Moira hugged herself, dropped her head. "Tis nothin' we can do if I am."

"I can marry you…"

"Yer not listenin' to me!" She stamped her foot.

His eyes flashed, his muscles stiffened at the accusation. "Maybe because you're not _explaining_."

"I can't marry a sorcerer, tis better to be an old spinster than—"

"Than marry the likes of a sorcerer?" He finished darkly.

She bit back a sharp response instead she said the truth. "Then bring shame on my family."

"Well, then, my lady," He gave a mocking bow. "I'll just go back to my ways and keep you from shaming your family."

"Merlin."

"Leave."

"As ye wish," Moira McCreedy lifted her chin, gray eyes steely. She stepped out of the room and closed the door softly. With a heavy weight lying on her heart she pressed her a hand to her stomach and wondered.


	10. Chapter 10

You'll Never Walk Alone

Chapter 10

Some day, when I'm awfully low,  
>When the world is cold,<br>I will feel a glow just thinking of you...  
>And the way you look tonight.<p>

(C) Frank Sinatra

"Something's not right with her," Larkin muttered to Mal as they stood to the side of the weeks training. Moira dueled Gawain, but she wasn't aggressive, she wasn't leaping about as she usually did. "She's not well." It had been five weeks since the ball and Moira had been wearing out much too easily. Not herself, Larkin had called it, but there was much more to it.

"She was sick this morning," Mal replied. "And yesterday and the day before that." He shrugged. "She might have caught something; Guinevere is having the same issues." Even as he said it he saw the king and woman in deep discussion. Guinevere pulled away from Arthur nodding her head. His gaze fluttered down to where the round table had begun, to where Leontes plank was still stained. He walked away. "You don't think…"

"Leontes hasn't been dead for more than a month," Larkin replied, wishing now more than ever the God fearing man was with them. "She wouldn't." Larkin whipped his head around at the yelp from Moira. Gawain stood over her, sword poised. Gawain helped her up, green eyes confused, he hadn't even jabbed her stomach that hard. "Are you all right?" He asked softly. She nodded. "Moira, you haven't been the same…has Merlin done something? Said something?"

"I—I…" Moira stumbled for words, and knew in an instant Merlin stood above them, watching. "I have to go." She pressed a hand to her mouth and ran from the room, sharp wave of nausea washed over her. She had barely made it to her chambers, barely made it to her cleaned chamber pot. She lay in a curled ball, the chamber pot huddled to her stomach. Merlin found her this way. He knelt beside her, running a hand over her hair. She pushed weakly at him. "Go away," her voice echoed from the pot. "I don't need ye."

"Moira, I did have some part in this."

"Curse ye and yer devil spawn! Of course t'would be ye who gets me in this state the very first time!" She broke off when another wave hit. Merlin sighed softly, and laid a hand on her stomach, easing the nausea. He searched for the life inside and found it, barely even there. "Aye it was ye genius," She snapped at him.

He lowered himself onto the ground, staring at her. He loved her. He had to leave. She was pregnant. It was his. His head was spinning. "You said that you wouldn't marry me."

"Aye."

"And what exactly will a baby from a sorcerer and Druid descendant make?" He brushed a sweaty strand of hair from her face. "Moira?" He nudged verbally.

"A more powerful witch than anyone can imagine," She replied. She wasn't about to let him know that mother's usually died in childbirth. "If it's a girl mind ye," She shrugged her shoulders. "Tis a fairytale as well. The last time something like this happened was many years ago."

"And what happened?" He asked.

"The Druids killed her." Moira rose from the cold floor, lowered her shaking body onto the bed. "She was too powerful; the second she was born she was killed. But my great-grandmother had a second child in secret. She bound her powers. Her daughter did the same for hers, fer she married a sorcerer. My mother married an ordinary man, I was lucky. Mother hadn't a clue." Merlin sat down beside her, laid an arm across her shoulders and drew her into a hug.

Moira squeezed her eyes shut feeling a fist of love squeeze her heart and not let go. Merlin buried his face into the mane of oak colored hair and breathed in the clean scent. He would miss this, oh Gods above, would he miss this. "You should stop training." He murmured softly. "It isn't good for the baby."

"It'll be fine for a few more weeks Merlin." She rose from the bed, straightened her tunic and went to the water basin to rinse her mouth out. The man watched her, eyes soft. She didn't need him; it was a realization that hurt beyond compare. She had her moment's weakness and now she was strong again. Now she was the knight he had brought with him so long ago. She met his eyes in the mirror. "What?"

"Nothing, love," He offered a smile; though it was forced and nowhere near true it comforted her. "Are you sure you won't marry me?"

She turned toward him, grey eyes contemplative. "I don't know Merlin."

"What do you want?"

"I don't know what I want and what I don't want, I don't know _anything_," Moira cried out, tears stinging her eyes. She squeezed her eyes shut against the on slot of tears, if there was one thing she already hated about being pregnant it was all the damn mood swings that went with them. She didn't jump when Merlin laid his hands on her shoulders. "I don't know, I don't know, I don't know." She whispered over and over.

"Hush love," Merlin wrapped his arms around her front. "Open your eyes, there's a good girl," He gazed at their images in the mirror. "Would you be happy with me?"

"I—"

"No, no, you do know, so look," he whispered softly. With the tips of his fingers he touched the clear water in the basin. "Look at it Moira—"

_There was a stone cottage buried deep in the woods, a ray of sun blessed the little cottage with warmth and light. A foal raced beside his parents through the field behind the home and whinnied high and clear. An answering laugh came from a child running along the fence. From the kitchen Moira smiled and watched her son cling to the foals neck, the dreams of youth circling between them._

_ "He'll be a fine knight someday." Merlin said softly as he came up behind her. _

_ "Arthur will be blessed to have him." She replied. She glanced up at the small explosion from above their heads. "She's at it again?"_

_ "Bound and determined to turn the frog into a prince." Her husband replied with a laugh. "As stubborn as you." _

_ "I always wanted a prince," She teased, lifting his hand to her face, the glint of their wedding rings caught a beam of sun. "Instead I got a sorcerer." Their lips met and held._

Tears streamed down her face, her breath near to non-existent. The yearn she had to have that life was much too strong. Merlin fought to get a hold of his emotions, to back the love for her into its cage. "So, you've seen it now—"

She clenched the side of the table until her knuckles turned white. When she spoke her voice was soft and laden with pain. "A vision isn't always true Merlin."

He pushed on. "But was it enough? Is the love you have for me enough?"

"I never said anything—" She turned in his arms and broke off as his lips met hers, his strong hands on either side of her face. "Yes," she whispered. "Yes by Christ it is Merlin."

"I love you Moira," He kissed her forehead. "I love you, Gods only know why, but I do." He brushed his lips over hers again. "Looks like you have to plan a wedding before the little one comes along."

"Looks like I do," she smiled up at him. He smiled back then laughed and lifted her into a spin.

"We're betrothed."

"Yes, we are!" Moira threw her head back and laughed long and loud.

* * *

><p>Oh happy ending...NOT! More to come :D<p> 


	11. Chapter 11

A/N Wicked short, sorry guys, but I'm back!

"You did what?" Malcolm McCreedy's shout could be heard all the way outside in the Court Yard, in front of him Merlin winced ever so slightly, knowing full well that the man in front of him could slice him and dice him in the blink of an eye. "Are ye mad?"

"Quite sane actually," retorted Merlin.

"Without even asking me or father for her hand?"

"You're father is at least three thousand miles away, I'm not waiting that long," retorted Merlin calmly.

Mal scowled at him. "You're supposed to be her guardian, not her husband."

"A husband can do both."

"Christ!" Malcolm stalked off to one side to pace.

"I'm glad," Balin offered with a smirk. "Finally get her outta my hair."

Calder snickered. "Good luck is the best I can give ya boy-o." Mal scowled at his brother. "What? Oh fine," He turned to face Merlin, arms folded. "Do ye love her?"

"Yes."

"Do you care fer her?"

"Very much so."

"Will you protect her?"

"No one can protect Moira if she doesn't want it," Merlin answered. "That being said if need be I will be right beside her, ready to cut down anyone who would try and touch her." The sorcerer looked from one McCreedy brother all the way down to the youngest. "So, with all of your permissions, can I see her through this?" He got nods from Balin and Calder. His eyes found Larkin and Mal, silently begging. "Mal? Larkin? Do you trust me?"

"Of course," Larkin answered for both of them. "The King trusts you."

"Aye," Mal nodded. "You can marry her." He extended his hand and clasped Merlin's tightly. "Take care of my baby cub."

"I will."

In all her years alive she never thought she would be planning a wedding without her mother. Moira watched as Guinevere stitched an embroidery of gold thread into the white dress. Instead she had Guinevere, Bridget, the other ladies of Camelot. "You should be smiling," Bridget teased gently. "In a week you'll be married." Moira smiled softly. "To Merlin no less."

"I was hoping you two would get married," Igraine commented as she looked over the embroidery. Moira drew in a slow, steadying breath. Did she want this, truly? Setting aside the book she had been reading, due to the fact that the ladies had deemed her embroidery skills non-existent. "I'll be back," Moira said, and departed before questions could arise.

She needed to get away, needed to run, to breathe for God's sake! She hadn't realized she had been running until she hit the warm sunshine. Moira sucked in a breath and held it, feeling her heart pound against her ribcage. It would be fine. She loved Merlin, really truly loved him. She ducked out of the gate of Camelot, avoiding any human contact and began her walk to the woods. She had no idea why she felt so trapped, so caged in. Her hand rested on the growing mound on her stomach. She hadn't been sick lately, which was good. She had even warmed to the idea of having a baby. She smiled slightly and shook her head at her own thoughts.

He watched her, silently, steadily from the trees. He had heard the rumors around Camelot that she had not only become betrothed to the sorcerer, but had become pregnant. Irate, and a little disappointed he attached a note to the falcon that he had in the tree. "To Pendragon," he commanded. The falcon took off, swift and deadly on silent wings. His gaze dropped to the woman. All would be well.


	12. Chapter 12

A/N A little longer, but still short

Word spread through Camelot that bandits were in the hills, attacking villages, raping and pillaging. Arthur had commanded a hunting party to mount up and prepare to defend the villagers. Merlin stood beside Abastor, stroking the steed's neck. He would lend a hand or rather sword in the battles to come as he had always done before. And like she had always done before Moira mounted a horse, though it wasn't her beloved mare since the horse had become pregnant she had been sent to the fields to relax. Merlin straightened as Moira trotted over his eyes sharp. "What are you doing?"

"Helping," the Irishwoman replied. Her future husband scowled. "Oh stop Merlin, ye can't stop me from my duty."

"You are with child," he hissed softly. Her eyes narrowed, glowering. "Don't give me that look Moira, it's my child."

"And mine," she shot back. "And as such I have a say. I can still fight."

"As you wish," the sorcerer turned away and mounted. He couldn't stop her even if he tried to. He could only hope that she would think of the baby before anything else. They rode side by side following the other men to the outskirts of the first village. "Looks empty," Gawain stated, hand resting on his sword.

"Tis quiet," Balin added in. "A wee bit too quiet, if ye get my meanin'." Moira grunted in agreement.

"Carry on," Leontes stated. "We'll move to the next village." Even as he ended his sentence a rain of arrows began to fall upon the group.

"Find cover!" Moira shouted, wheeled her mount toward the ruined stables. She cried out as an arrow took her from the saddle, landing in her arm. Balin hooked a hand under her arm and hauled her to safety. "Fuck!" She muttered, staring at the arrow. "Balin…"

"Give me a minute," her brother snapped as he grabbed hold of the arrow. "Take a breath." On her inhale he yanked and the arrow came free with a flood of blood. "Christ." He tore a strip of cloth from a burlap sack and tied it quickly and efficiently around the wound. "Stay put."

"Not a chance." She tossed her hair back over her shoulder, scowling. "We're in this together."

"As always," muttered the man. Together, side by side, they entered into the fray.

Merlin ducked a swinging sword, cursed quietly and brought his own up in defense. His hazel eyes searched for Moira, to get a quick glimpse. He ran through the man in front of him, and swung to fend off another. In the blink of an eye he saw Moira poised with a sword above her head, bounding waves of chesnut hair flowing in the wind, and the next blink he saw the arrow strike her in the belly. "No!" His roar of anger was accompanied by a decapitation. He sprinted, dodged between fighters until he was by her side. She had fallen to her knees, hands cupped around the arrow, gray eyes wide in amazement. The archer, hidden among the trees ducked into the shadows and sent word to Morgan that his task was completed.

"Merlin," Moira whispered, eyes searching his. "I-I can't…" she waved her hands around her stomach. With a soft oath he wrapped his fingers around the arrow. "I can't feel him…."

Merlin glanced up quickly, his eyes went to her belly and with a swift pull, and the arrow came out. They barely acknowledged the retreat of their foe as Merlin searched for the life of their child. "Moira—"

"Tis faint," she murmured. "So faint." Tears streamed down silently as she felt the life they had created slip away. He pulled her into his arms as her tears grew into sobs. There would be no baby.

"It's done," Bridget said softly to Merlin. "She's passed the—" She searched for a word and settled for what it had been. "The baby." She rested a hand on the man's arm. "I'm sorry Merlin."

"Can she…"

"The midwife believes she can still conceive…but don't…"

"I won't." Merlin interjected. Malcolm lingered behind him, waiting for the woman to depart. Bridget sighed gently and shook her head, taking her leave. "I'm sorry Mal."

"Sorry ye didn't tell me she was with child or that you knew and that you let her go into battle?"

"All of it," Merlin sank to the floor, head in hands. "I should've ordered her to stay behind. She should have been here, she and the baby—"

"Merlin," ordered Mal. "Stop. There's nothing you can do."

"They targeted her."

"What?" the McCreedy turned his emerald gaze to the man on the floor.

"Why not kill any of us? Or her? They aimed for the stomach…did you notice that?"

"I thought it odd, but archers aim for whatever they can."

Merlin pondered the Irishman's words and then shrugged. "I suppose you're right." But it didn't stop the nagging feeling in the back of his mind.

She had let him die, Moira lay on her side, arms tucked around her belly. The belly that had had a child in its womb; a womb that had been damaged. A womb that may not be able to bear a child. She didn't move when Merlin entered, she stayed as she was, letting the tears run their course for once. "There'll be others." The man stated softly, laying a hand on the top of her head.

"Bridget says there may not," she whispered, and squeezed her eyes shut. "If I can't provide a child—"

"It doesn't change my love for you, dear heart," Merlin laid down beside her, placing a gentle hand on hers. "I will love you as much as I love you right now, with or without child." He pressed his lips against the side of her neck. "We'll find out who did this Moira, I promise."

"You sense it too?"

"Foul play? Oh yes, dear one, oh yes I do," He gazed out the window, the anger settling deep in his heart for the one he knew had done this.


	13. Chapter 13

A/N- I know, I know, you guys probably hate me for killing the baby, but there was a purpose behind it. Other than pointing out that his vision was wrong, anyways, here's 13, sorry for it being relatively short.

* * *

><p>It had been two weeks since she had lost the baby. Two weeks since Merlin had planted the seed in her mind. Two weeks that she had racked her brain to think of who could have been behind the obvious assassination of her unborn child. She twirled a lock of hair around her finger as she walked into the woods. There had been one who had entered her mind and had quickly been dismissed, but now it was back. Ian. How obvious had it been to name him? How oblivious had she been to dismiss him? She knew, just <em>knew<em> Merlin shared her thoughts, but they hadn't spoken of the incident. She rubbed a hand across her stomach, it felt hollow, empty. She still cried at night, still found it hard to eat. Now, she thought, now was the time to seek revenge.

_What are you doing?_ Merlin prodded gently. She scowled at the intrusion on her thoughts. _Murdering Ian won't bring the child back._

What did he know? She groused to herself. He wasn't the one who had been carrying, who had felt the first movement, who had dealt with the hormones. No, murdering Ian would be much too simple, much too easy. She wanted revenge. She came to the river, the place that brought her peace, but instead of peace she had tears, and sorrow.

* * *

><p>"The deed is done," the man said softly as he walked beside Shannon. "There'll be no child for her."<p>

"Does she suspect?"

"I don't think so," he replied with a shrug. "She blames Ian."

"Marvelous," the Irishwoman sidestepped around a chicken pecking at the dirt. "Is Morgan—"

"The potion is in the process of being made, as soon as it's done you can drink it and a child will be in the makings." He inspected his short nails, chipped from fighting. "My payment?"

"Will come to you when a child is born." Shannon finished his sentence with a tosse of her head. "You have my word."

"The last time I took the word of an Irishman I was nearly killed."

"That's because he was of low standing."

"Shannon, when can we let the people know that we're family?" The man asked bitterly. "You get all the glory and your brother is left with nothing."

"You are a half brother Thomas, and an assassin at that." Shannon snarled. "You will remain hidden, understand?"

"Understood," the assassin muttered. Neither of them took notice of the man watching from above.

* * *

><p>So that was how she played the game, Merlin observed as the sister of Moira and the man walked away. He had heard nearly all of it, but enough of it to be sure. They had killed his child in order to get Shannon pregnant. "Morgan must know," he muttered to himself. "A Druid and a sorcerer…" He tapped his fingers against the wood of the window. "There's more to it then Moira told me."<p>

"Oh aye, ye can believe that," Larkin said from the doorway. Merlin turned, and smiled slightly in greeting. "She gave you a short version, eh?"

"Powerful witch is all she said."

"That sums it up nicely." Larkin took a seat on the trunk containing books. "Did she mention t'would of killed her if she did have it?"

"She left that part out," Merlin stated darkly.

"Tis part of a curse," Larkin bit into a shiny red apple that he had snatched from the kitchens. "See, she may give birth to the most powerful witch of we'll say her time, but part of it is that if she wants the babe to live, she needs to give her own life."

"That's absurd."

"Tis true, bullshit, but true."

"So, it's sons or nothing?" Merlin ventured.

"If you want to roll the dice and risk her life," Larkin shrugged. "Up to you really."

"Thank you for the insightful talk." The man groused.

"Oh, I'm a ray of sunshine Merlin," Larkin grinned. "But in all seriousness, you can choose at the time of birth. That's what me mother did…"

"Your mothers alive though—"'

"Second mother. Shannon and Moira have different mums."

"So how does Shannon have a trace…"

"We don't know," Larkin interrupted. "We really don't." He walked over to the man that would someday be his brother-in-law. "She loves you, that's why it's bothering her so much."

"She should rely on me then," Merlin watched the form of Moira emerge from the woods. "She knows she's not alone."

"She finds it better to be alone," Larkin observed his baby sister, his one true love at the moment, walk. "She'll walk through wind, through rain, through Hell itself, and she'll always believe she needs to do it alone."

"She'll never walk alone, not while I'm here," swore Merlin softly. Larkin glanced at him and dropped his gaze with a smile. "But she won't believe that will she?"

"Not a chance."

* * *

><p>Merlin approached her slowly, like he would approach a frightened foal. "Moira…" He spoke softly. She turned her head; he could see she had been crying. "Come here, my love." He opened his arms and enveloped her in a tight, protective hug. "I don't <em>need<em> a child," he stroked a hand down her hair. "But I do need you."

She buried her head into the side of his neck, seeking safety, seeking warmth. "I want to give you a child."

"Wanting and needing are two different things, love." Merlin replied. "All I want and need is you."

"You have me."

"Then I have the world." He pressed his lips against hers breathing in the scent of the woods. Moira stood in his embrace, gazing at the doors to her room, maybe they could carry on without a child, but she still wanted to know who in the world had taken it from her. She would find out.

"I love you, Merlin." She murmured. She had a plan.


End file.
